A Wet March Hare
by Andy Magnuseth
Summary: It's March. Hare likes his friendship just fine. Hatter thinks it's time Hare stopped being so shy.    They compromise in the best and most child-unfriendly of ways.


For some reason, Hatter decided that it needed to rain Tea.

This needed no explanation, just as the broken machine outside needed no explanation, just as the broken teacups needed no explanation, just as the March Hare now being soaked in tea, sitting on his couch in a very drippy, color-bleeding new technicolor suit that was probably perfectly ruined, sitting on about five towels...

...wiggling his nose temptingly and already beginning to pull off the melting jacket and shirt underneath...

"...Hare would you like for me to fetch you a change of clothes?" Hatter inquired, watching a rivulet of tea drip from a strand of moist hair-fur, along the rim of Hare's glasses, dripping down onto a freckled cheek and migrating to an awaiting tongue that was thin and pink and...

"...Yes, Hatter, thank you! Though...I'm not sure you'd have anything to fit me...I'm not exactly...lithe, you know." Hare looked at him almost piteously, squirming under Hatter's scrutinizing gaze, an eye squinting closed as a reassuring pat was given to the towel over one ear, ruffling it slightly to dry some of the wet Hare underneath.

As Hatter clambered over steps and old junk and piles of mess that made him appear to be a hoarder, he stumbled quite literally over a chest of clothes he remembered not being able to find a couple months back under all the mess. As often as Hare stayed over his house, he usually kept a store of clothes for his best friend.

Heck, Hare was the only person that would tolerate his house in the filthy state it was. Certainly Rabbit would have had an OCD episode and needed to be carted off to the ER just from looking at it, the Tweedles would never manage their aerobics in such a cluttered space, Caterpillar would just be too big to even fit around all the mess (and God, that droning, r-rolling accent made him want to punch babies in the face), Queen would demand that the place be perpetually and instantly clean when she deemed him with the honor of her visit, and that damnable Cat appeared only when you never wanted him, ESPECIALLY when one was trying to have a...PRIVATE...moment.

Hatter's thoughts drifted almost exclusively to Hare when he pulled out a few clothes from the chest, recalling the time Hare had made a spectacle of himself during his own birthday party held in the giant Hat, tripping over several things he never usually tripped over, and landing straight in the cake. It always brought the Mad Hatter's curiosity around to see him so flustered, always around his birthday in March, always so strange...

...It wasn't until he actually did any sort of RESEARCH on March that he realized why. And at that point, Hatter began to wonder why his friend didn't just find someone to screw until the heat was over. And today, the first of March, he intended to find out EXACTLY why.

When he emerged back into the sitting room, Hatter was quite surprised to see that Hare had helped himself to the kitchen, and was now sitting in quite a couple of towels, having procured two cups of iced tea. The March Hare looked a bit jittery, something Hatter attributed to either cold or shyness about his body, the fluffy patch of fur on the Hare's chest the only thing he permitted to show. A nose wriggled actively, and Hatter narrowed his eyes almost distrustfully at it as he placed the change of clothes on Hare's lap with a plop, causing the poor animal to shiver more noticeably before his furry little patted fingers, usually never ungloved, scrabbled for purchase on a shirt.

"...Thank you, Hatter, but I thought the clothes were lost?"

"I found them." Hatter answered succinctly.

"Oh, well, I suppose I'll get dressed..."

"...It's March, isn't it?" Hatter interrupted, giving him a pointed look

"...Yeeeeeaaaah, why? Thinking of a birthday present for me?" Hare inquired almost coquettishly, putting the shirt aside and trying to slip on the pants as Hatter looked away, still keeping the towel around himself shyly.

"...It might be. I've already bought you a birthday present. But you might want another one...for the rest of March..." Hatter answered, sipping some of the iced tea.

"...No, Hatter. We're good friends. I'm not ruining that." Hare snapped, yanking the pants up with a snap.

"...What about satisfying your heat would ruin our friendship?" Hatter questioned him, looking up at that wriggling nose through strawberry blonde lashes. "...I was under the impression that a good friend would do that."

"...It would get awkward." Hare answered, sitting down again, sipping at his own iced tea. "...God Hatter, you know I would love to be more than just a friend to you, but I'd rather both of us were in a position to make that choice."

Hatter shot him a frustrated glare. "I love you too, buddy, but you can't just ignore your own urges just because you want to make a rational choice at a time when you won't even bother to think about it. This is the only time you ever start thinking about it, and I'm not letting you forget the thought again for the umpteenth time."

Hare shot him a heated glare, setting down the glass, and wriggling backwards in his seat. "It. Would. GET. AWKWARD!"

Batting his lashes, Hatter shook his head. "Fine then. Close your eyes."

Hare jolted backward. "-Wh-w-wh-wha-what!"

Hatter gave him a pointed look. "You're the one who sees it getting awkward. All I want to do is make it a little easier to deal with. Is that...okay?"

Eyes slipped closed, furry little fingers slipping off glasses, and Hare was frightened by his own earnest.

* * *

Little prodding, exploratory touches brushed against his skin, against the soft patch of fur on his chest, something pulling gently at the waistband of his pants. Something freezing cold and wet brushed against one of his nipples, and he couldn't help but let out a gasp, wriggling forwards as his skin burned in response to every small touch...and oh God a hand was encircling him, teasing and touching and stroking and he rocked hard against it in response, the heat curling inside him, gathering at that point...OH GOD! What was that ice coldness and why was it torturing him so? Why couldn't it stop, he wondered, biting hard into his knuckle, almost hard enough to draw blood. That wet, cold iciness swept across his nipples, his length, across shoulders and even his lips as he tightened his eyelids even further, wriggling against the assault of coolness, whimpering loudly as that heat, the heat of his own body rose up against it, trying to melt it, to drive it away...suddenly a warm wetness encircled him, tugging at him, pulling that heat all to one area, that flickering tongue against him, and oh God, those plump, soft lips that Hare tried so hard not to recognize, but as that heat was finally sucked out of him through a solitary point, then swallowed whole, Hare couldn't halt the whimper of 'Hatter' that slipped from his lips as his entire body shuddered, shivering at the sensation of cloth pulled over him once again, his glasses replaced, and finally, finally his skin didn't burn everywhere, finally he felt...good. Relaxed. Soothed.

* * *

When he eventually opened his eyes, Hatter was giving him a curious, almost confused expression as he sipped his iced tea. "...Something wrong Hare? You seem flustered."

Hare broke into a fit of giggles, then sipped his tea, suddenly feeling wonderful. "Oh, no Hatter. Just thinking...Why did you even think you could make it rain tea in the first place?"

Hatter smiled cheerfully, chuckling. "It was a good idea at the time!"


End file.
